


A Not Quite Cinderella Story

by JustADumbWriter



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cloaking, M/M, Undercover Mission, mvm, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-26 02:22:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14392218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustADumbWriter/pseuds/JustADumbWriter
Summary: Sniper goes undercover for a out-of-hours mission, but he didn’t bank on meeting the girl of his dreams, or finding out her secret...





	1. The Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Well, nobody else was gonna write this awful clichéd fic, so it looks like I gotta do it! I hope you’re all happy.

‘ _Get in, get the files, get out._ ’

Sniper tugs at the collar of his shirt, feeling as if his bow-tie is trying to strangle him. He checks himself over in his rear-view mirror of the stylish convertible he’s sitting in. 

He feels ridiculously out of place, but- he has to admit- he looks damn good.

Wearing a fitted black suit with a crisp white shirt, burgundy waistcoat, and bow tie, minus his usual hat and aviators, Sniper feels almost alien. As if he’s in someone else’s skin. He supposes that’s the point of his attire. It’s a disguise of sorts. The outfit, the car, the name, none of them are really his. 

“ _You will go by the name_ ‘Samuel Morgan’.” 

_He remembers the Administrator telling him, as he tried to swallow his anxiety that had been nagging at him since he stepped into her office._

__

__

“ _Your mission is to steal intelligence from someone who is becoming a threat to our company. You will find the files you need in an office that is attached to the same building the ball is in._ ”

_“Ball?” Sniper had cut in, feeling his stomach twist even tighter._

_“Yes,” The Administrator has said, a snide and condescending tone dripping into her words, “You know, like a dance.”_

_Sniper had nodded, inwardly groaning at the thought. He hated most large social occasions as they were, but to be surrounded by snooty strangers, and expected to dance? It made him want to run to the hills and never come back. But he didn’t feel like he had much of a choice in this mission._

_“So,” The Administrator continued, “Get in, get the files, get out. Simple enough, hm? Of course, you will need to interact with other guests for a while both before and after the extraction. We can’t have you creating any suspicion.”_

_“Right, yeah. The thing is, wouldn’t you be better gettin’ Spy to do this? It sounds more like his kind of thing.” Sniper had felt his heart racing as he dared to question The Administrator’s decision._

_“No. We need you to do this.” She had replied, leaving no room for negotiation, “However, we do have a certain..._ Re-enforcement _on hand, should things go wrong. Now, if you have no other questions- which I advise you shouldn’t- I have other things to attend to. That will be all, Sniper.”_

__

__

_Miss Pauling had escorted him out of the room, and to the lift, which went down to the entrance of the building. As she drove him back to base, she had offered a few words of encouragement._

_“Try not to worry, Sniper. This is really quite a simple option. You’ll be fine. Just make sure to get the files, oh, and be out of there by midnight.”_

_“Yes, fairy Godmother,” Sniper had joked as she stopped the car and he got out._

_“No, seriously.” Miss Pauling had called out after him, “You need to be out by midnight. Or you’ll be coming back via respawn, and probably without the files.”_

_“Oh,” Sniper had said, taken aback, “Okay_...”

And now, here he is, sitting in this fancy car, in this fancy suit, about to attend a fancy ball, and he would honestly rather douse himself in gasoline and wander up to the BLU Pyro instead. But he can’t. He’s got to get these stupid bleedin’ files, because if he does, he’ll get a tonne of extra money, which can be sent to his parents. 

With a reluctant sigh, and one last glance at himself in the mirror, he gets out of his car, and walks towards the large building the ball is being held. He walks around from the car park to the front entrance, taking in the grandiose design and decor, and straightens himself up to his tallest, pulling his shoulders back. 

‘ _Be confident_ ,’ He thinks to himself, as he climbs the stairs and approaches the man on the door asking for invitations, ‘ _If you’re confident, no one will question you_.’

“Good evening, sir. Do you have your invitation?” The man asks him, as he stops on the threshold of the large hall. 

Sniper fishes out the invitation from his back pocket, and hands it to the doorman. 

“Excellent. Welcome, Mr Morgan. We do hope you enjoy your evening. The main hall is just straight ahead, through the double doors.”

Sniper nods and thanks the man, and walks forwards, through the double doors, and into the hall. 

He’s almost knocked back by the sheer... _Atmosphere_ that hits him once he opens the doors. The room sparkles from top to bottom, from the glittery pieces of midnight-blue fabric draped from pillar to pillar, to the gigantic diamond chandelier in the centre of the ceiling. Even the guests seem to shimmer, with sequinned dresses, shining faces and smiles that are too bright to be genuine. 

The music that fills the room is coming from a live jazz band, standing on a stage bathed in gold light, with curtains the same colour as the material surrounding the room. 

Sniper definitely feels out of place. 

With a shaky breath, he takes a step into the room, and enters the crowd of beautiful, sparkling people. He feels suffocated as he resists the urge to elbow his way past smiling and laughing guests, but eventually he finds a clearing. 

Breathing a small sigh of relief, he glances around the room. 

‘ _Okay. I’m in. Now, to get the files_...’

His train of thought is interrupted as someone bumps into him, knocking him forward. He steadies himself and whirls around. 

“Hey! Watch—“ He cuts himself off as he sees who knocked him. 

She’s a little bit shorter than him, but wearing heels, so she measures up to roughly the same height as him. Her gown and shoes match her eyes- a gorgeous shade of powdered blue- and the dress reaches down to her ankles. It’s tight around her chest and waist, but flows loosely around her legs, with a slit up one side. Her blonde hair falls loose around her shoulders in big curls. She’s holding a glass of wine in one hand, and a glass of whiskey in another. Sniper notices she’s wearing a rather chunky, out of place watch, too. 

“Oh my, I’m so sorry!” She exclaims in an accent with a slight English lilt to it, eyes widening, “I overbalanced on these heels! Are you okay?”

Sniper has to pause to remember how to speak for a moment. 

“Uh, y-yeah. Totally fine. A-Are you?”

‘ _Yeah, that’s right, the ladies love when you stutter like a fucking idiot_ ,’ He mentally berates himself. 

Despite this, the woman giggles. 

“Yes darling, I’m fine. The name’s Tabitha.” 

“I’m Samuel,” Sniper smiles, resisting the urge to tip his hat, as he isn’t wearing one. 

“Are you here with anyone?” Tabitha asks. 

“No, just me,” Sniper replies, trying to ignore the little jolt his stomach does. 

“Let me introduce you to some friends! Come, come,” Tabitha beckons him, and he follows her to a small group of uptight-looking old men. 

Tabitha passes the whiskey to one particularly ugly gentleman, and- much to Sniper’s disappointment- hooks her arm through his. 

“Everyone,” She announces, “This is Mr Samuel...”

She glances at Sniper, raising an eyebrow.

“Morgan,” Sniper finishes, holding out a hand to the nearest of the four old men, “Samuel Morgan. Pleasure.”

He shakes the four men’s hands as he is introduced to each; James, Edward, Timothy, and Charlton, who seems to be Tabitha’s date. 

“Charlton here actually owns this hall,” Tabitha informs Sniper, “Don’t you, darling?”

“Oh yes,” Charlton gives Sniper a wide, proud grin, “It’s one of the many buildings my industry owns. And we just keep growing. We’re planning to buy the lot of land just North of here from Mann Co. And, of course, I’m not planning on taking no for an answer!” 

He winks at Sniper, and takes a sip of his whiskey. 

‘ _So, that’s why they want his files_ ,’ Sniper notes. 

“And what do you do?” Charlton asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh, well, I’m a business owner over in Australia- where I come from- and I’m looking to expand to America. We work with developing technology for other businesses to help them run more smoothly.”

There’s a murmur of approval within the group, and even Tabitha looks impressed. Of course, Sniper had simply just recited what The Administrator had told him to, but he’s glad it seemed to have worked. 

“Fascinating stuff! But enough about business, let’s get you a drink! Tabitha will get one for you, won’t you love?” He nudges Tabitha, and she smiles at him. 

“Of course. What can I get you?”

“Oh, uh, I can go with you,” Sniper offers, “See what there is, y’know?”

Charlton gives a shrug, and turns to Edward, beginning a conversation about stocks and bonds, as Sniper accompanied Tabitha to the bar. 

“You really don’t have to,” He murmurs, as they walk further from the group. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” Tabitha waves a hand, “Consider it an apology for earlier.”

Sniper smiles at her, and they reach the bar. 

“What would you like?” She asks, and Sniper tries to convince himself she isn’t batting her eyelashes. 

“Uh, I’ll just have a scotch and soda, thanks.” 

‘ _That shouldn’t affect you_ ,’ He thinks to himself as Tabitha orders, ‘ _Can’t compromise the mission by getting utterly arsed_...’

“So,” Sniper leans on the bar beside Tabitha as the bartender pours the drink, “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

“Oh, well, there’s not much to tell, really. I moved here a few years ago after I went to culinary school in France and realised it wasn’t for me.”

The bartender hands Sniper his drink. 

“Thanks, mate— Culinary school, eh? You wanna be a chef?”

“Well, that was the dream,” Tabitha sighs, looking somewhat wistful, “But it turns out it’s a very demanding profession with little payout in compensation. Really, all I wanted was to open a little bakery of my own, but I’ve had to put that on hold...”

“Aw, well, there’s always time,” Sniper gives her an encouraging smile, “Havin’ your own bakery sounds like a nice thing to aim towards. I’m sure you’d do well.”

“That’s sweet of you to say,” Tabitha reaches out and gives Sniper’s arm a stroke, “What about you? Any dreams? Or are you already living yours with developing technology?”

Sniper shrugs, thinking about his life for a moment, and not Samuel Morgan’s. 

“I’ve always fancied writing. I mean, my vocabulary ain’t too good, but it’s something I’ve always thought about. Maybe take night classes, read more, then write my own stuff...” 

He feels his stomach twist ever so slightly, a little melancholy as he reminisces the dream he didn’t allow himself to think about all that often. 

“Still, I’m the same as you, too hard to get into with too little pay.”

“Well,” She raises her glass, “Here’s to our back burner dreams. May we one day accomplish them...”

Sniper laughs, clinking their glasses together. 

“I’ll drink to that!”

“Come, we should go back, or Charlton will think you’ve stolen me away,” Tabitha smiles, snaking her arm through Sniper’s, making his throat tighten. 

“Not just yet,” Sniper says, punctuating the statement with a nervous laugh. 

For a few hours, the group talk and drink. Uninterested in the topics that James, Edward, Timothy and Charlton discuss, Sniper keeps bringing Tabitha into the conversation, asking her about herself. 

He learns that she paints in her spare time, was part of a choir when she was in France, is an only child, and has a burning hatred for the new sensation of slam-poetry that is sweeping the nation. The more Sniper talks to the woman, the more charmed he becomes. They both share a love of adventure, and an interest in the local wildlife, and when Sniper tells her he had a pet owl, her eyes light up in a way that makes Sniper’s heart do a funny little skip. 

‘ _Get in, get the files, get out, you bloody idiot_!’ A little voice in his head is screaming at him, but he ignores it for as long as he can. 

At 11:36 in the evening, he checks his watch and feels his stomach drop. 

‘ _Shit, SHIT! You need to get those files and get out! Miss Pauling said be out by midnight you bloody idiot_!’ 

Sniper quickly excuses himself from the group, and makes his way to the bathroom. Before he reaches the door, he doubles back, and walks down the corridor, away from the party. He had been given blueprints to memorise, and he knew that the office he’s looking for is South of the ballroom. 

He quickly finds the room, and to his surprise, the door is already unlocked.

Carefully, and slowly, he opens the door, suspecting a trap. Nothing ever comes this easily... But, to Sniper’s surprise, the room is empty. No people, no cameras, nothing. 

‘ _Well_ ,’ He decides, ‘ _If this is a freebie then I’ll take it_!’

He opens the filing cabinet, and flicks through the files until he sees one labelled “Teufort”. He spots another labelled “Mann Co”, and a third labelled “Gravel War”. He decides to take them all, just to be safe. He stuffs them into his waistcoat, and makes sure they cannot be seen. Then, he turns, and hurries out of the office.

As he quickly walks down the hall and towards the entrance, he hears a voice from behind him. 

“Are you leaving without saying ‘goodbye?’”

He turns to see Tabitha, standing at the double doors to the ballroom, arms folded and lower lip stuck out in a faux-pout. 

“You wound me, Mr Morgan!”

While his better judgement is screaming ‘ _GET OUT! GET OUT!_ ’ Sniper can’t help but walk back to Tabitha. 

“... ‘Course not,” He says, smiling softly, “Just... Needed some air.”

The band starts a new song, and Tabitha glances over her shoulder, eyes lighting up. 

“Ah, this is my favourite,” She says, with a little sigh, “Charlton doesn’t dance...”

“Then,” Sniper begins, voice on the brink of shaking, “May I?”

He holds out a hand, and Tabitha turns back to him. Her whole face lights up, and her eyes honest to God _sparkle_ as a smile grows on her face. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” She teases, before taking Sniper’s hand and leading him onto the dance floor. 

The song is slow, and Tabitha pulls him close to her as they being to sway, assuming a waltz position. Sniper gulps. 

“A-And you’re sure he’ll be alright with this?” He asks, drawing back slightly. 

“Oh, darling, we’ve only been on two dates! We’re not serious,” Tabitha reassures him, and then leans her head on his shoulder.

“Plus, you could definitely take him in a fight,” She teases, and then laughs in a way that makes Sniper feel oddly warm.

Sniper can’t help it. He pulls her in closer, and snakes his arm a little bit tighter around her waist. He can feel a soft smile tugging at his lips as he holds Tabitha against him, all the while the two of them swaying in sync. 

“It’s been lovely meeting you tonight,” He murmurs, heart pounding, “Maybe... We could see each other again?”

The song slows to an end, and the couple slow to a halt. Tabitha pulls her head back to look at Sniper, bright eyes hooded, a ghost of a smirk crossing her lips. 

“I’d... Really like that,” She practically whispers. 

And Sniper can feel the both of them leaning in. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He can feel Tabitha’s warmth against his skin. They lean in closer, and closer, and just as their breathing gets heavier, and their lips are away to meet—

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

Tabitha’s watch emits a shrill alarm, and she draws back to check it. 

“Merde!” She whispers, eyes widening. 

Sniper’s stomach drops. 

“I-I’m sorry, _what_ did you just say?”

“We need to get out of here right now!” Tabitha grabs his hand, and makes a beeline for the doors, with Sniper following behind her. 

“Wait— What’s going on?!” Sniper asks, scrambling behind her. 

Tabitha doesn’t answer, and instead opts for barrelling past the doorman, and leading Sniper down the steps two at a time. 

“Bloody hell, how can you run in those shoes?!” Sniper pants, having let go of her hand and now running alongside her. 

“Years of practise!” Tabitha replies, rounding a corner and heading for the parking lot. 

They skid to a halt in the lot, and Tabitha turns to Sniper, a look of urgency in her face. 

“You got the files, yes?”

“What?!” Sniper’s jaw drops, “How did—“

“No time for that! Yes or no?!”

“Y-Yeah!” Sniper clutches at his stomach, and can feel the files within his waistcoat. 

“Good. Now get in your car and get out of here!”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on!” Sniper can feel his heart racing, but he’s not going to be blindsided. He has a right to know. 

“Ugh, you stubborn, insufferable Bushman!” Tabitha cries, and Sniper feels his heart all but stop at the familiar nickname. 

Tabitha fiddles with her watch, and is suddenly engulfed in a puff of grey-blue smoke. When it clears, Sniper is horrified to see a familiar face with the same blue eyes staring back at him. Only this isn’t a beautiful, blonde woman’s face. It’s a face covered in blue fabric, with a slight stubble, and a grimace etched onto it. 

“It’s me, you idiot! I’m the re-enforcement they sent! And I’m telling you now— You need to get out of here, because the building is going to blow up in—“ The BLU Spy checks his watch, “— Thirty seconds! Now go, go, _GO_!”

Sniper doesn’t need another push, he dives for his car, and jumps in, starting the ignition. In a split-second’s foolishness, however, he spares a glance over to The Spy. He’s also frantically starting his engine. Before he slams on the gas, he turns and meets Sniper’s gaze. It’s just for a moment, but Sniper notices the way his eyebrows knit together. 

And then, he slams his foot down on the pedal, and is gone. Speeding along down the road into the open desert. 

And Sniper does the same. 

He’s less than a mile away from the building when he hears the explosion. He glances into his rear view mirror, and sees a plume of smoke rising, and orange flames engulfing the ballroom. 

He forces his eyes back onto the road, and presses harder on the gas pedal, driving at full speed back to RED base.


	2. The War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a little gore at the end of this chapter (and canon-typical violence)

Sniper’s hand shakes as he sets his coffee mug down in the sink of his camper. 

‘ _It’s from the caffeine_ ,’ He decides. 

It’s a new day, and battle starts in an hour or so. He scrubs a hand over his face, and takes a deep breath, before leaving his camper, and going inside to the showers. 

On his way over, he can’t help but replay last nights’ events again for what feels like the millionth time. 

Not the part with ‘Tabitha’. No, he’s going to be repressing that for months. 

He thinks more about the hours after the explosion.  
Speeding back to the battlegrounds.  
Seeing Miss Pauling standing, waiting for him, outside the entrance to the RED base. 

_“Well, you cut it rather close,” She had said, eyebrow raised as Sniper shakily got out of the car, “Did something go wrong?”_

_“No,” Sniper grunted, reaching into his waistcoat and fishing out the files._

_Miss Pauling took them, and checked them over._

_“Hm... He had more information on us that we though... Ah, well, that’s not a problem now. Thank you, Sniper. We will have your payment sent to you within the week. I’ll take the car back.”_

_She held out her free hand, and Sniper dropped the keys into it._

_“I don’t like havin’ the wool pulled over my eyes,” He had said, as Miss Pauling had her hand on the car door’s handle._

_She turned, and raised an eyebrow._

_“I’m talkin’ about the Spy.”_

_At that, she had frowned._

_“Ah, I see. Well, we needed him there to unlock the door and decommission the security cameras, and, y’know, rig the place up with C4. And we couldn’t have told you that he was there, otherwise you would have been all tense and acted... Unnatural.”_

_Sniper didn’t say anything, merely glared. Miss Pauling shrugged and got into the car._

_“Oh, you can keep the suit, by the way,” She had called to Sniper before she closed the door, “It suits you!”_

And with that, she had gone.  
And with that, Sniper was left alone with his thoughts. 

It had been a long, sleepless night. 

The thought of battling for hours all day makes Sniper want to curl up and die. The thought of seeing one of his very familiar enemies today also makes him want to curl up and die. 

He gets to the showers, gets into one of the cubicles, and turns on the water. It’s lukewarm, but he doesn’t care. Maybe it will wake him up, and stop the heat he feels on his face when he thinks about a certain Frenchman he’ll most likely see today. 

‘ _Oh, God, this is ridiculous!_ ’

He lathers soap all over himself, and scrubs at his hands a little harder than necessary. He feels stupid. He shouldn’t have this weird, heavy feeling in his stomach, or a strange twist in his chest. He should be feeling fire in his veins, and fury in his heart! He’s going to war for Christ’s sake!

His mind chooses now to replay the moment that he’s been trying so hard to avoid. 

The moment he leaned in, and ‘Tabitha’ did too. The way those blue eyes began to close, that smirk began to fade as their lips got so, so close...  
And, maybe, if it hadn’t been so near to midnight...

‘ _NO! Nope! No, no,_ no! _Stop it!_ ’ Sniper shakes his head, trying to clear his mind, and ground himself. 

He quickly gets out of the shower and dries off. He brushes his teeth and dresses in his usual RED uniform, then goes to meet his team in the base leading out to no man’s land. 

“Okay, maggots, listen up! Today we are protecting our precious control points from those BLU scum!”

Sniper usually doesn’t pay much attention to Soldier’s pre-battle speeches, but today he listens intently, trying to hype himself up. 

“These aren’t men we’re fighting against, these are _mice_! And we’re not gonna lose to a bunch of mice! Not on my watch! So, are we gonna let those lousy BLUs win?! No we are not! We are gonna let these BLUs meet there maker! Now WHO’S WITH ME?!”

“Yeah! Let’s have a go at it!” Sniper shouts, punching his free fist in the air, much to the surprise of several of the mercs, Soldier included. 

The RED Spy standing next to him casts Sniper a questioning glance, as Soldier hollers with excitement at Sniper’s contribution. 

“I, uh, made my coffee a little stronger today,” He shrugs, giving a nervous laugh. 

“Just as long as you do not shake so hard you miss targets,” Spy shrugs, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. 

Sniper grins and gives him a small nod, beginning to feel like himself again. 

“I never miss, mate.”

And he doesn’t. 

He’s Sniper; the best in his league and a vital part of the team. A professional assassin with nerves of steel and a keen eye. He’s good at war- he knows it like the back of his hand. 

‘ _Wow, maybe I should listen to Soldier’s speeches more often!_ ’ He thinks, before deciding not to get too carried away. 

The buzzer sounds,  
The gates open,  
And war breaks out, once again. 

Sniper quickly finds a perch at the top of an abandoned steeple, and sets up. He drags a crate over and sits, putting his eye to the scope. 

“Boom! Headshot!” 

Within a few minutes of scoping, Sniper has already racked up three kills- two of which were Scout. 

He hasn’t seen a certain pin-striped suit yet, but he tries to pay no attention to what his stomach does when he thinks about it. It’s fine. He’s fine. 

This goes on for about an hour, he lines up shots and takes them down, making sure none get too close to the control point. His head is totally in the zone, and he’s not even thinking about the other night, until—

“Ah, just the man I was looking fo— _AH!_ ”

Spy quickly ducks as a kukri is launched at his head. The blade wedges itself into the wall behind him, and Spy whirls around, just in time to be pushed back against the wall by an enraged Sniper. He forces one arm against Spy’s throat, and with the other, withdraws the kukri from the wall. 

“Wait, _wait!_ ” Spy strains, his airways being crushed by the muscular forearm. 

“I don’t think so,” Sniper snarls, drawing his kukri-bearing arm back and aiming right for Spy’s chest. 

“It’s about last night!” Spy cries, desperate to buy himself some time. 

He sees Sniper pause for a moment, his arm loosening from around Spy’s throat ever so slightly, and his face contorting into a strange expression. 

“I need your— HCK! AGH!” Spy is quickly cut off by the large blade ripping through the middle of his chest, and feels blood spurt up into his throat.

Sniper stays, watching Spy and not releasing him as he squirms and chokes, his face scrunching up with pain. Spy coughs, and a spatter of blood hits Sniper in the face. He doesn’t flinch. Merely watches as Spy chokes and dies in front of him. 

Spy notices there’s something else in his eyes, other than the blind rage he’s so used to. 

Something almost... Sad.

Spy doesn’t get much time to inspect this look, however, as his vision blurs, and the darkness takes him. 

And then, a bright, white light. 

Spy squints against the sudden transition- he never gets used to it- and sits up on the metal table he is now on. He jumps off, and walks out of respawn, the routine of living and dying and living again having lost the edge of maddening existentialism long ago. 

He straightens his suit, and lights a cigarette. 

“Well,” He huffs, “That was just _rude._ ”


	3. The Ceasefire

“Listen—“

_BANG!_

“I just—“

_STAB!_

“WOULD YOU PLEASE—“

At this point, Sniper actually chokes Spy to death with his bare hands. 

Spy, infuriated, storms out of respawn for what feels like the thousandth time that day, and back to where Sniper has relocated to. Not even trying to be subtle this time, Spy barges in, and shoots sniper in the stomach before he can attack. Sniper let’s out a harsh yell, and doubles over, falling to his knees. 

“Okay, _now_ will you listen?!” Spy yells, exasperated. 

Sniper doesn’t respond, only lets out a gurgling cough and groans. 

“You’ve got about two minutes, so I’ll make this quick,” Spy walks over to Sniper, and hooks a finger under his chin, tilting his head up so they’re looking each other in the eye. 

A small trail of blood runs out of the corner of Sniper’s mouth. He still swipes at Spy with his bare hand, but he’s slower and clumsier because of the intense pain, and Spy easily dodges it. 

“Would you stop being so stubborn for one moment! I’m trying to tell you something important!” Spy berates him, but then his voice lowers, “It’s about the files...”

He glances around, then crouches so he is level with Sniper, who still gives him a half-hearted glare. 

“Did you see what was in them? Particularly the one marked ‘Mann Co’?” 

Sniper spits blood out of his mouth (aiming for Spy’s expensive leather shoes) before he answers. 

“Nah,” He heaves out breathing rugged, “They were confidential.”

“Oh, you trusting, naïve Bushman,” Spy rolls his eyes, “How can you be so uninterested in such things?!”

Sniper gives him a withering look. 

“Ah, yes, never to mind about that right now. Look, there is much more we need to discuss. Allow me to meet you later- after the ceasefire for the night.”

Sniper’s stomach lurches- which is painful, considering there’s a large tear in it. 

“You— AGH— You’ll do no such bloody thing,” He gasps, the edges of his vision going dark. 

“It’s the only way we can talk with privacy!” Spy protests, but, much to his dismay, Sniper has already died. 

Spy gets to his feet, huffing out an annoyed sigh. 

“Typical Bushman,” He mutters, “Always needs to have the last word.”

Sniper’s eyes fly open, the glare of the lights dampened slightly by his ever-present aviators, and he flings himself off the table. In a flurry of muttered curses to himself about Spy, he storms towards the door, but just as he crosses the threshold, he hears the klaxon that signals the day’s end of battle. He stands there, feeling his heartbeat in his ears and grinding his teeth, as the mercs begin to file back to the RED base. 

“Cheer up, Herr Sniper!” He feels a gloved hand land on his shoulder, and turns to see a smiling Medic, “We won!”

“Yeah... Great,” Sniper forces a smile, trying to seem as genuine as possible. 

It seems to work for the doctor, as he lightly pats Sniper, and then strides off to the base. Sniper is still unmoving. He casts a glance around the empty field, and once he’s satisfied no cloaked Spy is waiting nearby, wheels around and stomps back into the base. 

The team are already celebrating, cracking open bottles of beer and preparing a feast, but Sniper just slinks past the festivities. He’s in no mood to be celebrating. Engineer tries to beckon him over, but Sniper just shakes his head and gives him some excuse about a rough night and just wanting to take it easy. 

It works, and Sniper manages to escape back to his van. Once inside, he locks the doors, draws the curtains across his window, and sits on his bed, kukri in hand. He glares at the door, trying to blink as little as possible. If Spy walks through that door, Sniper will be ready. And he’ll shred him to pieces. 

His eyes droop for a moment, and he realises just how heavy his eyelids have suddenly become, and just how _soft_ his bedsheets are... Sniper shakes himself. 

‘ _Can’t sleep now. You can sleep when Spy’s got a space between his neck and his shoulder._ ’

He yawns, and leans back. 

‘ _It’s alright. I’m still watching the door. I’m just... Getting more comfortable. Yeah... Can’t fight well if I sit in an uncomfortable position for ages._ ’

He leans back further until his back is against the camper wall, and he shifts so he’s in more of a reclined position, kukri still in his grip, but slightly looser...

Suddenly, his focus is snapped back to attention by a knock at the door. He jumps up off of the bed, and tightens his grip on his kukri, the other hand going to the door handle. He takes a small breath to steady himself, and yanks the door open, raising his weapon. 

Spy’s obviously been expecting this kind of greeting, as he quickly darts to the side, narrowly avoiding being sliced in half, and then lunges at Sniper. He tackles him to the ground, and Sniper drops the kukri in the dust outside. The door swings shut as Sniper lands on his back, Spy on top of him. 

“Could you try, _for once_ , letting me speak before you attempt to gut me?!” Spy hisses, trying to restrain Sniper’s wrists. 

Sniper uses all his might to throw Spy off him, and flips the two of them over, so he’s on top. He shoves Spy by the chest, and keeps his hand there to keep him still. 

“You’re my fuckin’ enemy. Don’t usually have much motivation for keepin’ you alive.” He grunts, eyes darting around the room for the closest weapon. Spy uses the momentary pause to knock Sniper’s hand off his chest, and wriggles out from under him. As Sniper’s hand is knocked, he loses his balance, and falls face-first to the ground. 

Spy is up in a flash, and grabs the door handle, but Sniper is just as quick, and slams his hands on either side of Spy’s shoulders, ensuring the door can’t open. 

Spy had turned when he sensed movement behind him, so they are now face to face, both panting and running on adrenaline. 

Sniper glares at Spy.  
Those blue bloody eyes.  
The pupils of them are blown wide. 

He notices Spy isn’t making a move to escape, he’s just... Staring back. And then he notices just how close the two are together. 

Chests almost touching.  
Faces just... Inches apart...

Sniper’s eyes widen a fraction, and Spy’s become hooded. Just like the other night. When they were both leaning in... Just like they are now.

Before he realises what exactly is happening, their lips meet in the middle, and, God, his stomach flips. He gasps quietly, his eyes closing, before grabbing Spy by the waist and pulling him flush against himself. Spy’s arms are around his neck in an instant, and the kiss gets deeper, and more frantic. Mouths moving together, teeth clacking when one moves just a little too quickly, tongues sweeping against each other. 

And then, Spy pulls back, and Sniper sees the same brightness in the same blue eyes as he did last night. 

But Spy is just staring at him, brow knitting together ever so slightly. Is he waiting for Sniper to turn? Become disgusted or furious? Well, Sniper can see his logic, but instead, he brings a hand up to Spy’s chin, and gently pulls it forwards in a sort of act of reassurance. 

“C’mere,” He murmurs, and that’s all the encouragement Spy needs. 

And they’re kissing again, but this time, softer. Slower. A silent message that this is... There’s something here. 

Sniper pulls Spy as close to him as possible, and slowly walks back towards the bed, and then— 

Sniper wakes up. 

He jolts upright with a yelp, and takes a few shaky breaths. Just as his adrenaline starts to return to normal levels, it spikes again as he hears a knock at the door. His head snaps to the floor beside the bed, where he sees his kukri, and he grabs it. 

He jumps up off of the bed, and tightens his grip on his kukri, the other hand going to the door handle. He takes a small breath to steady himself, and yanks the door open, raising his weapon.

“AH! Jesus, Slim, simmer down it’s only me!” A Texan accent cries at the sight of the feral-looking Australian. 

Sniper blinks down at the Engineer for a second, before lowering his weapon. 

“Oh! Uh... Sorry, Engie,” He offers him a small, awkward smile, “Just thought you were... Never mind. What’s up?”

“Well, now that you’re not gonna gut me like a fish, I brought you some dinner.”

Engineer holds up a plate with steak, potatoes, vegetables and gravy on it. 

“I noticed you skipped dinner and I didn’t want you goin’ hungry was all.”

Sniper feels a large pang of guilt, and places the kukri up against the wall of his van. 

“That’s real kind of you, Engie. Thanks. Why don’t you come on in? I’ve got some beer.”

Engineer flashes him a grin, and Sniper steps aside, letting him into the camper van, and closing the door behind him. Engineer places the plate down on the small table at the side of the van, and turns to face him. 

“Thanks for invitin’ me in,” He says, before a plume of smoke suddenly envelopes him. 

Sniper coughs as the smoke irritates his eyes and respiratory system, and when he looks back to the Engineer through watering eyes, BLU Spy is standing in his place. 

“It’s nice to see you co-operating for a change~.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry y’all. you know I had to do it to ‘em :)))


	4. The Files

Sniper stands, frozen to the spot. 

He resists the urge to pinch himself. This time he must be awake. But... He also can’t bring himself to attack the man standing in front of him. His hands twitch instinctually, but he doesn’t reach for the kukri. Doesn’t lunge at him and tackle him to the floor. He just... Stares. 

He can feel heat on his cheeks. 

“So,” Spy says, taking a seat at the table, “Shall we beg—“

“Were you in the base?” Sniper cuts him off, eyes never leaving Spy’s face, searching for any signs of lying. 

“Pardon?”

“Were. You. In. The. Base... _My_ base?” He gestures to the plate of food. 

“Oh! No, no. I. Brought this from my own. I had a feeling you may have been neglecting your eating habits,” He smiles at him. 

It’s a strange sort of expression. Somewhere between smirking and looking genuinely... Never mind. Sniper gives him a tight smile, and picks up the plate. 

But, instead of sitting down to eat, he goes to the door, opens it, and throws the plate outside like a frisbee. After a moment, there’s a distant shattering sound. 

He shuts the door again, locking it, and turns back to Spy, who doesn’t look upset or even phased. He just raises a slightly questioning eyebrow. 

“You could’ve drugged it or poisoned it or God knows what else. Just ‘cause I’m not runnin’ you through with my knife right now doesn’t mean I trust you,” He practically growls, reluctantly sliding into the seat opposite him. 

Spy merely shrugs. 

“You’re very paranoid. But if you must starve simply because of your over-active imagination, then so be it. Besides, you probably made a good call, it was Pyro’s turn to cook tonight...”

“Oh yeah, and his cooking isn’t up to your ‘trained chef’ standards?” Sniper rolls his eyes. 

Spy looks surprised for a second, before a soft smile graces his lips- the kind that reaches all the way up to those blue eyes. 

“You remembered I went to culinary school.”

“What?” Sniper wills himself not to brush, scratching the back of his neck and looking to the side sheepishly, “Whatever. Anyway. ‘Course I’m suspicious of you! You’ve been trying- and succeeding- to bloody kill me for almost two years!”

“My, has it been that long already?” 

Spy’s voice has a strange sort of wistfulness to it, as if he’s... Nostalgic. As if they’re old friends, reminiscing when they first met. Or maybe something different from friends. Something more... Exclusive. 

Sniper mentally shakes himself out of his daze and Spy, seemingly not noticing his pause, takes a cigarette case out of his pocket. 

“May I?” He asks, opening the case and taking a cigarette out, holding it delicately between two long fingers. 

“Does it matter if I say no?” Sniper gives him an exasperated look. 

Spy laughs. 

It’s not like the laughs Sniper had heard from him before. It’s not loud, brash and gloating, nor quiet and dripping with some sinister, or downright _evil_ emotion. It’s... Softer. Which is an adjective he never thought he would be using for this man. He laughs in a way that’s quiet, but sincere. Like he’s charmed by Sniper’s deadpan statement. 

He holds the case out to Sniper, and he takes one. He’s not a big smoker, but tonight he decides he could use one. His nerves are shot. Spy lights his, and passes the lighter to Sniper, who does the same, and then gets up to fish out a make-shift ashtray from one of his cupboards. He puts a mug on the table, and sits back down. Spy inspects the mug, amused. 

“‘ _Number one Sniper_ ’?” His lips twitch as he smirks, “Where on Earth did you get this?”

Sniper shrugs. 

“Dunno. It was a gift.”

“Oh? Who from?”

“... Demo.” 

_Sniper fondly remembers receiving the gift a few days after he and Demo had run a new defence strategy together, and it had gone really well. Demo and Engineer had gone into the nearby town to get some supplies, and when they were back, Demo had wandered into the rec room, where Sniper was trying to play a game of chess with Medic, and unceremoniously shoved it at Sniper._

_“Look what I found!” He said, beaming (and slurring, slightly), “It’s for you!”_

_Sniper had been confused, but had taken the mug out of his hands, and when he read what was on it, he felt a grin plaster itself on his face._

_“Aw, mate, you shouldn’t have!” He’d said, staring down at the mug, willing his face not to turn red, “Thanks. Really. ‘S real nice.”_

_“Well, ye_ are _the number one!” Demo exclaimed, plonking down on the couch beside Sniper, and draping an arm across his shoulders. ___

____

____

_He turned to Medic._

_“Did I tell ye about the new defence we ran? Absolute piece o’ genius! An’ it worked like a dream!”_

_Medic always loved war stories, so he hadn’t complained about their game interrupted, and instead listened intently as Demo described (and embellished, slightly) their tactics._

_They never did finish their game of chess, as Demo accidentally kicked it over in a dramatic flourish when he was describing a bomb going off, but neither minded._

Returning himself to the present, Sniper glares back at Spy, who is regarding him carefully. 

“Lost in thought, mon ami?” 

Sniper takes a drag- 

‘ _Ugh, it’s menthol_ ,’

\- and fixes his gaze into something more threatening. 

“Whatever. Look— Why are you here?”

“Ah! I thought you’d never ask!” 

Spy’s face lights up, and he reaches into the breast pocket of his coat. He takes a bundle of photos out, and tosses them onto the table, so they scatter out slightly in front of Sniper. Slightly confused, he picks one up and looks at it. 

“Are these... Those bloody files?!” He asks, squinting at the scrawling handwriting in one of the photos. 

“You catch on quickly,” Spy says sarcastically, “Yes, these are the files. You know, the thing I’m here to talk to you about.”

“Right, so, what about ‘em?” Sniper asks, trying to decipher a picture of a blueprint in another picture, turning it different ways. 

“Well, I looked through them all, but I found something particularly interesting in the Mann Co. file.” 

Spy brushes a few pictures aside, then pushes one towards Sniper. 

Sniper picks it up and reads it. 

_“Our newest experiment will be to test out our latest technologies on our mercenaries. This will test the durability and strategy of our machines, as well as the overall fighting techniques they are capable of. Should our experiment work, and they win up to 100 fights in a row, we will know that we have perfected the art of war. And when we have done that, the whole world will be at Mann Co.’s fingertips!”_

Sniper feels the blood drain from his face, and his throat gets tight. He re-reads the typed statement three times over, trying to let the words sink in. 

“Are you saying that our own company is... Turning against us?!” He looks up to Spy, who is sporting an equally solid expression. 

“That is what it seems,” He murmurs, “But, that is why I need your help. We need to pull our resources! We need to become stronger and better and—“

Spy pauses, eyebrows knitting together. 

“We need to team up.”

Sniper lets out an incredulous laugh. 

“Yeah, _right_! We’ve been at each other’s throats since we’ve met! You don’t just unlearn that! Plus, it’s the two of us against them! I’m not the best at statistics but I can tell you right now that those aren’t great odds.”

Spy sighs with frustration. 

“I don’t just mean the two of us- I mean our teams. RED and BLU—“

He glares as Sniper rolls his eyes. 

“— I know it sounds ridiculous, but what other choice do we have?! We need to learn to work together and to trust each other, otherwise—“

And, at this, he sighs, and tosses another picture across to Sniper. Sniper looks at it, and his eyes widen. The image is of a Heavy Weapon’s Guy, but neither the BLU or RED he knows. No, this Heavy isn’t made of skin and bone. Instead, his body is made of metal, and his eyes are bright, glowing lights. There are bolts connecting different parts of him together, and his gun looks like the newest version. Sniper’s jaw drops, and he looks back up to Spy. 

“— Otherwise, we will be entering The Age Of Steel.”


	5. The Plan

Sniper stands, one hand against the door to the RED canteen, but he can’t will himself to push it open. 

“Come on, what are you waiting for?!” A disembodied voice hisses, very near his left ear. 

BLU Spy is beside him, cloaked, of course. He can’t just barge into a whole group of RED’s without Sniper giving them a warning first. 

They had talked late into the night, discussing what Spy knew about Mann Co.’s new technology, and how they were going to beat it. They also had to come up with a plan on how to approach their respective teams. 

“ _Alright, so, how are we gonna do this— If it’s even possible—“_

_Spy had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. Sniper had made a point not to look at his- surprisingly muscular- forearms. Well. He’d tried, anyway._

_“We need to just tell them head on,” Spy had said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world._

_“Oh, yeah, we’ll just wander on into the bases and be all like ‘Hiya fellas, I know one of us has been murdering you time and time again for the past two years, but now we’re gonna become best buds and make friendship bracelets and- oh, yeah- FIGHT A BLOODY ARMY OF ROBOTS!’” Sniper threw his hands up in exasperation and glared at Spy, who merely shrugged._

_“Maybe a little blunt, but I like your energy,” He smirked._

_Sniper rolled his eyes and folded his arms, leaning back in his seat._

____

____

“ _Look,” He said, leaning his elbows on the table, “We’ll start with your team. Tomorrow. After the battle. I’ll make sure you win, so everyone will be in a good mood. Then you can go in and—“_

_“Woah, woah, woah,” Sniper said, cutting Spy off, “I’m not doin’ any public speakin’.”_

_“You have to!” Spy protested, “If I go in there alone I’ll be shot!”_

_Sniper took a moment to imagine the speed and also ferocity with which his team would destroy the BLU Spy, and cracked a smirk._

_“Not just shot, mate, you’d be_ annihilated” _He paused for a moment, weighing up his options, “I guess I could maybe— Wait, y’know, no. How do I even know this is legit?! You could just be tryin’ to create a false sense of security for us!”_

 _“Well, firstly, because I would not spend an entire evening discussing robots and troubles of my own creation, no matter how much it could aid my team,”_

_Spy retorted, and Sniper was hit with a small, unexpected sting at his words._

_“Yeah, well, I’ve been tricked by you when we were off the clock before,” Sniper’s eyes narrowed, as he thought back to just the other night._

_“Not as much as you may think,” Spy replied, quietly._

_Sniper was taken aback by the tone, but before he could ask him what he was talking about, Spy piped up again._

_“Look, you need to ask yourself only one thing; Can you afford to doubt me?”_

_He looks directly into Sniper’s eyes, an eyebrow raised. They’re both silent, for a moment, just staring at each other. The silence draws on for just a little too long to be natural._

‘Should I lean in..?’ _Sniper wondered but this pulled him out of his momentary trance, and he sighed._

_“Fine. Let’s do this.”_

Sniper pulls in a deep breath. It’s the third he’s taken in a row. He keeps willing himself to open the door, but his anxiety is beginning to manifest in the pit of his stomach, like a snake, coiling and writhing, every movement making him feel more uncomfortable and prickly. 

“Good God, Bushman, the robots will be here before you have even come face to face with your team!” Spy’s voice is impatient. 

“Just gimme a sec!” Sniper snaps, “‘M just building up the nerve.”

Spy doesn’t reply for a moment, and then Sniper feels a small pressure on his upper arm. Spy gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“It will be okay. You talk to these men all the time,” 

Spy’s voice is surprisingly gentle and what’s more surprising is how well it works on Sniper. 

“Besides,” He continues, “It is I who should be nervous, I could come out of here riddled with bullet-holes.”

Sniper huffs out a small laugh. 

“Alright,” He pushes the door, and walks into the canteen, “Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so short I’ll give you guys another, longer chapter later today xoxoxo


	6. The Reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS REMEMBER THIS!!!
> 
> So, I’m not sure how many of you follow my other works, but anyone who does will be able to see that there’s a big pattern in my multi-chapter fics!
> 
> The pattern is that none have even been finished :-) 
> 
> HOWEVER, there is another pattern to my fics
> 
> None have ever been abandoned, either!
> 
> Everything that is still a work in progress WILL be finished someday (being a writer with depression is a real kick in the dick* (*motivation) sometimes) but I am BACK and I am DETERMINED and I am POWERED BY SHEER RAGE AND CHAOTIC BISEXUAL ENERGY!!!!!!!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> So my lovely, long-suffering readers, please don’t give up on me! I promise this fic will be finished, and when it is it will be something spectacularly gay (I HOPE it’s spectacular at least) and something that will have hopefully been worth the wait!
> 
> Thank you all for your support so far, here’s to getting this shit DONE 💖💖💖

“Uh, lads, can I have everyone’s attention for a sec? I’ve, uh... Got some pretty big news for you all.”

The RED team, who had all been in different stages of eating and drinking, turn to face Sniper, and he feels heat rising up the back of his neck. He should have written something down when he was going over this moment in his head for hours during battle. 

“Oh my God, are you dyin’?” Scout pipes up, holding a can of Bonk and physically shaking from the caffeine, “Like- properly dyin’? No, wait, are you gonna tell us you’re gay?! No, wait! You’re gonna hunt us all for sport in that camper van of yours! NO WAIT—“

He’s cut off as Spy- RED Spy- smacks him on the back of the head, knocking his cap over his eyes, and the can of Bonk from his hand. 

“Yo man, what the hell, that was only, like, my seventh one!”

Spy simply rolls his eyes, and gives Sniper a nod. 

“Please, continue.”

“Right, uh,” Sniper begins to fumble for words, “Well, the other night, I was sent on an after hours mission to get some files...”

He explains to the team about the mission, and the content of the files, and what it meant for them. 

“Even man made of metal is no match for Heavy. I say we rip them bolt from bolt,” Heavy growls, a dangerous look in his eye. 

“Aye, they’ll have tae kill me and turn off respawn before I give my job tae a pile of bolts!” Demo shouts. 

“LET’S SEND THESE ROBOT BASTARDS TO ROBOT HELL!!!” Soldier jumps on top of the canteen table, punching his fist in the air. 

“Yeah, lemme at ‘em, and I’ll show those tin cans how to handle a bat!” Scout chimes in, cracking open another can of Bonk. 

Spy quickly prizes it out of his hands, and gives Sniper a suspicious look, while the other mercenaries rile themselves up. 

“I will happily have one of these machines melted down into a new cigarette case,” He begins, as aloof as ever and seemingly unphased by what he has heard so far, “But I feel there is more you have yet to tell us...”

Sniper’s brow knits together. 

“Well... Yeah. There is. And it’s gonna sound crazy, but...” The noise dies down, and Sniper sighs, “I didn’t figure this out by myself. I... Uh... Had a little help.”

Spy’s eyes narrow. 

“From who, exactly?”

Sniper opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off. 

“From me.”

Sniper hears the sound of a cloaking device switching off, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees BLU Spy materialise. 

For a moment, the REDs are silent.  
And then, the moment passes. 

Demo breaks his bottle on the table, and brandishes the jagged end.  
Soldier cracks his knuckles.  
Scout pulls up his bat.  
Medic picks up his steak knife.  
Heavy rises to his feet.  
Pyro claps their hands together in malicious glee. 

And the team charges. 

Every RED except Spy and Engineer have the BLU Spy in their sights. One target between six mercenaries. Spy won’t have enough of himself left for respawn to put back together. 

But they don’t reach him. 

The battle-hungry team stops dead, as Sniper steps in between them and the BLU Spy. 

“Yo, dude, what the fuck?!” Scout cries, baseball bat raised. 

“If you don’t step outta the way, you’re going down too, son!” Soldier barks. 

Sniper remains still. 

“No,” He says, voice steady, “You’re gonna listen to what we have to say. And you’re not gonna send anyone to respawn, ‘cause—“

At this, he falters slightly, bracing himself for the reaction he knows will come next. 

“... ‘Cause we need to team up with the BLUs.”

The REDs all begin to shout over each other at once, but are cut off by the RED Spy clearing his throat. Sniper has always been in awe of the way Spy has so much of a presence that he can silence a group of battle-hardened mercenaries with just a simple action or look. Sniper also wonders if BLU Spy possesses the same talent. 

‘ _Not the best time to be thinking about this_ ,’ He decides. 

And then, RED Spy says three words Sniper never thought he would hear. 

“Sniper is right.” 

“You’re all turning bloody traitor!” Demo cries, waving his broken bottle around with a dangerous abandon. 

“Now, hang in there,” Engineer chimes in, rising from his seat at the table, and walking over to stand next to Sniper and the Spies, “I think we need to hear ‘em out. By the sounds of it, we’ve got a war comin’, and we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“You are all so easily swayed,” Medic says, voice low, and dangerous, “You think files and pictures can really be trusted when they come from this man?! He can change his face, for God’s sake! I’m sure forgery is easier than breathing for him.”

“Nah, doc,” Engineer says, sharing a glance with the RED Spy, “It’s more than that...”

Both Sniper and BLU Spy shoot Engineer a confused look. 

“Gentlemen, you may want to take a seat,” RED Spy grimaces, “There’s something else you need to know.”


	7. The Project

“So, uh, about a year back I was called to a meeting with The Administrator. Now, I’d been doing my job right, and I knew that. Every portal and sentry was up to standard- hell, better than- and that’s not me being full of myself, I know how to do my job and I do it damn well. But, anyhow, I went to meet with her, and she told me about this, uh, project. She was pretty secretive about it when she briefed me- said I’d need to say yes before I could get most of the details. But, y’know, I’m loyal to Mann Co. and I wanted to help out, so I said I would...”

Engineer sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“But... I shouldn’t have. Should’ve just walked away and never given another thought to that damn project... They were interested in me ‘cause of the fine work I did on the Gunslinger.”

He holds up his gloved hand, giving the fingers a flex, which lets out a quiet, mechanical noise. 

“She wanted t’know if I could replicate this science, except... With a whole body. At first, I thought it was for more prosthetics- hell, that’s what they told me! I thought it was gonna help people... But, obviously, I was wrong...”

“Engineer came to me for help,” RED Spy interjects, “He had begun to believe the project he was a part of was not for what he had originally been told. Of course, I was only happy to offer my skills in his aid. I went undercover as him, and managed to infiltrate the files.”

“... And you found what we did,” BLU Spy finishes. 

Engineer nods. 

“I knew I had to get outta the project, but in the next few days, it was shut down anyway. I was relieved, to say the least. But now...”

Engineer rubs his chin, lost in thought for a moment. He then turns to the RED team, who are sitting back at the table, silent. 

“I don’t like this situation any more than y’all. I think this guy’s a real slippery snake,” He casts a glare over at BLU Spy, “But I don’t think he’s lyin’. And it’d be too big a risk not to band together.”

The REDs at the table look to one another, expressions shifting from different levels of unease. 

“I do not like the BLU Spy,”Soldier barks, “But I know I can trust Engie. So I am on board.”

With Soldier’s blunt statement breaking the tension, the rest of the REDs begin to mutter begrudging agreements. Eventually, they all voice their acceptance of the idea, and make a plan to meet with the BLU team after battle tomorrow. 

“Now, remember,” RED Spy reminds them all, “We are against our own superiors in this war. This means we cannot trust anyone outside of our teams. Understood?”

Sniper nods, and turns to the BLU Spy, who he sees is beginning to fiddle with his cuffs. 

“I believe I am in danger of overstaying my welcome,” He says, and Sniper nods. 

“Couldn’t agree more.”

He walks Spy out of the canteen, and out of the base, back to where his camper is parked. 

“Well, I suppose I shall see you soon, Bushman.” 

Spy smirks a little, raising his hand in a small wave as he turns, but Sniper grabs him by the wrist, and wheels him back around so they are facing each other. Shoving the butterflies in his stomach down, Sniper draws himself up to full height, and tries to muster his most threatening look. 

“Just don’t forget, Spy, I know your games, and I’ll be keepin’ a close eye on you. Real close. If this harms my team in any way- no matter how small- you’ll have me to answer to.”

Much to Sniper’s annoyance, Spy just gives him a withering, almost bored, expression. 

“You are going to wear yourself thin far too quickly if you keep your paranoia this high,” He says, dislodging his wrist from Sniper’s grasp, “I really am here to help you.”

“Can’t be too careful with you,” 

Sniper replies, hoping to God the bizarre note of sincerity he heard in his voice is just his imagination. 

Spy merely shakes his head, a small smile flashing across his features just before he cloaks. 

“Get some rest, tomorrow will be a busy day. And for God’s sake, Bushman, _try_ to eat something.”


	8. The Battle

“So... Whadda we do here?” 

Scout breaks the uncharacteristic silence throughout the team, as they stand waiting for battle to commence for the day. The tension is palpable between the usually energetic teammates, until RED Spy speaks up. 

“We continue on as normal. We kill the BLUs and defend our point. We cannot let on that we know anything. We do not know who is watching us.”

Scout scuffs his heel on the ground, not looking up. 

“Just don’t seem like we should be gettin’ on their bad side, considerin’ we’re gonna be askin’ for their help, is all.” 

Before anyone can retort, the klaxon sounds. 

The battle seems like any other if someone was to look on from the outside, but there is an air of unrest amongst the REDs. 

Sniper sits in one of his nests, keeping his keen eye on a certain member of the BLU team whenever he can, and still making his usual professional shots. 

‘ _Professionals don’t have feelings_ ,’ He reminds himself, feeling his gut twist at the words. 

He is snapped out of his train of thought, however, as he suddenly feels an arm snake around his throat, and tighten against his windpipe. He lurches back on instinct, struggling against the attacker. 

“Struggle, but do not free yourself,” The BLU Spy hisses. 

Sniper makes a choking noise in protest, and doesn’t ease up. His hands clamp onto Spy’s forearm, and he tries to prize himself free from the Frenchman’s steel grip. 

“I need you to come with me tonight,” He murmurs. 

Sniper let’s out a ragged splutter, incredulous. 

“Bring your Spy and Engineer, too. It will be more convincing if we have more to back up our point. I will meet you all outside your camper, three hours after ceasefire.”

Sniper swears he hears Spy mutter a small apology as he snaps the Marksman’s neck, but it could just be the lack of oxygen. 

When Sniper wakes up in respawn, he hates that his first thought is the feeling of Spy’s breath on his neck as he talked.


	9. The Rendezvous

“... Anyone else feel like this is a terrible idea?”

Sniper scuffs his shoe across the ground, hands in his pockets and eyes flitting between Engineer and RED Spy. They’re all waiting beside Sniper’s camper. 

RED Spy looks cool and collected as always. A cigarette sits between his lips, and his eyes lazily scan the surroundings. Sniper would say he almost looks bored, but he knows that, underneath the calm exterior, Spy is alert, trying to prepare for every possibly scenario that may come at them tonight. 

Engineer’s distress is slightly easier to see. Though his face hides it well, his fingers twitch and he taps his toe. He catches Sniper’s eye, and pulls a face. 

“I dunno, Slim. He seemed to know what he was talkin’ about...”

“Yes, and someone good enough to almost be a worthy competitor for myself wouldn’t be so stupid as to try and go against our employers without good reason.” 

“If I didn’t know you better, I would say that is a compliment~.”

The three men start as BLU Spy materialises, sitting on top of Sniper’s camper, with his legs dangling over the edge. He smirks down at them. 

“You do not know me at all,” RED Spy sneers. 

“So... It _is_ a compliment?” BLU retorts, jumping to the ground. 

Sniper snorts out a laugh, and the other three men turn to give him a quizzical look. He feels his face heat up a little bit, and shrugs. 

“Anyway,” BLU says, eyes lingering on Sniper’s face for a moment before he turns to the other two men, “As much as I hate to admit it, my RED counterpart is right. This may be a dangerous tactic, but it is the only one that gives us a chance. As wrong as it may seem, we’re going to need to trust each other...”

Sniper doesn’t miss the way BLU Spy glances at him from the corner of his eye. 

“... Fine,” Sniper grunts. “So, how do we get over there without being blown to bits on sight?”

“I have set up the first half of a BLU teleport back at my base. The second half is just over here.”

Spy turns and begins to briskly walk away from the RED base, and closer to where no-man’s-land begins. The other three men follow, and after a few minutes of silence, Spy stops. He is standing beside some shrubbery, which is making a conspicuous sound. He pulls back the leaves to reveal a teleport, humming gently. 

“Well gentlemen, I’m sure you know how it works,” BLU Spy says curtly, “Wait two minutes, then come across.”

With that, he steps into the teleport, and is gone. 

Sniper, Engineer, and RED Spy all exchange glances. 

“Last chance to run,” Sniper mumbles. 

“And will you be saying the same when those metal men come marching over the hill?” Spy retorts. 

“Probably, yeah,” Sniper bristles. 

“Guys, GUYS!” Engineer interjects before the two can get any more digs in. 

“C’mon now, what is this? Fear? ‘Cause last I checked, we were goddamn mercenaries. We don’t feel fear. We feel determination. How many times have y’all taken out each an’ every one a’ those sorry BLUs? Too many to count! An’ now, what, you’re scared to go over there?!”

Sniper and Spy both look taken aback as they watch the Texan continue his speech. 

“We’ve got a war comin’, boys. An’ this war is gonna be the hardest we’ve ever had to fight. An’ it’s like that other Spy said, if we’re gonna stand a chance, we need to pull together. Now, y’all don’t have to like it, but it needs to be done. So quit bellyachin’ and get on the damn teleport.”

Engineer glares at the two of them, and Sniper is the first to crumble. 

“Fine,” He grumbles, and trudges onto the teleport. 

In a flash, he is suddenly standing in a dimly lit room. He steps off the teleport, and sees BLU Spy standing before him. 

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” He says, raising an eyebrow. 

Sniper doesn’t respond, just shrugs and averts his gaze. Spy sighs. 

“Look, Sniper,” He begins, but is cut off when the teleport flashes to life, and Engineer is suddenly in the room with them. 

He steps off and gives a small nod. 

RED Spy appears soon after. 

“What now?” He asks, casting a glance around the small room. 

BLU Spy fiddles with one of his cufflinks. 

“To the canteen,” He says, before turning on his heel and leading the other three men out of the utility room.


	10. The BLUs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suh dudes I’ve got a tumblr now;  
> Justadumbblogger
> 
> Go follow for updates n shit ;)

“... I’m sorry about your ribs,” BLU Spy says, pulling a face. 

Sniper leans against the wall and breathes out in a hiss. 

“Apologies ain’t quite a MediPack, mate,” He says through gritted teeth, clutching his left side. 

The meeting had gone... Okay.  
While Sniper and Engineer had come away with some minor injuries, the BLUs had at least listened to them in the end. 

_When they had entered the canteen, the BLUs had charged. BLU Scout had quickly taken his bat to Sniper’s side. BLU Demo has tackled Engineer to the floor, and got a couple of punches in, before RED Spy had shot him in the shoulder. Just as BLU Medic was rounding on RED Spy, BLU Spy’s voice had cut through the commotion._

“Gentlemen.”

 _It wasn’t a shout._  
_It didn’t even have much of a commanding tone about it._  
_But it was firm, and there was a warning tone behind it._

_The BLUs had stopped in their tracks._

_Sniper had practically gaped at BLU Spy, feeling something unwelcome twist in his stomach and send a small chill up his spine._

_Once the mercenaries had been prized off of each other, and everyone had settled down, the BLUs sat and listened to the four men tell them everything they know (while BLU Medic had patched up BLU Demo’s shoulder)._

_After some convincing, the BLU team had reached the same level of begrudging acceptance as the RED team had the other night._

And now, Engineer and RED Spy has teleported back to their own base, and Sniper was about to go next. 

“Sniper,” BLU Spy says, voice uncharacteristically unsure, “Just before you go...”

Sniper, who had placed one foot on the teleport, turns back to Spy. 

Spy reaches into the inside of his suit jacket, and for a moment, Sniper feel a surge of instinctual adrenaline, expecting a gun or a knife. He doesn’t know what it happening when Spy reveals a book in his hands instead. He holds it out to Sniper. 

“I thought... Consider this a peace offering.”

Sniper looks down at the book, dumbfounded. ‘ _The Great Gatsby_ ’. Cautiously, he reaches out and takes it. 

“I remember you said you wanted to read more and, well, I found this the other day... It’s considered to be quite a classic.”

“Huh,” Sniper says, unsure what quite to say, “I’ve not read this yet... Uh... Thanks.”

Spy flashes him a- somewhat tight- smile. 

“Well, I hope you enjoy it... Anyway, you should be on your way. Au revoir.”

Sniper, still slightly stunned, pockets the book and steps onto the teleport.


End file.
